


Kipo and the Wondersongs

by dawnheart



Category: Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, F/F, Other, Singing, TVY7 typical themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:00:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22552888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnheart/pseuds/dawnheart
Summary: Kipo is recruited as a singing act for ModFrogsInc and travels with her manager, Jamack, and his henchmen, Harris and Kwat.
Comments: 32
Kudos: 47





	1. The Beginning

The crowd cheered, maddening and deafening, swelling adjacent to the sharp shooting riffs Kipo sent through the speakers, zipping across all corners of the stadium, electrifying everything.

It was in moments like these that Kipo felt the most connected to everything, everyone. Every face in the crowd, illuminated by the blue and purple strobe lights; the vibrations of their cheers and the music.

“Thank you everybody! You have been amazing tonight. See you all out there. Good night!”

The crew flooded the stage ready to clean everything up and Kipo didn’t want to leave. She never wanted to leave. She never felt tired right after, while she was still on stage. She received everyone’s energy. This was her dream, her reason for being, and in this moment, she was one with the soul of the world. She felt like she could sing forever.

Of course if she did that the next day she would be voiceless and her manager, Jamack, would be furious. And she felt for him. Mrs. Sartori, the owner of her label, ModFrogsInc, was terrifying.

“Okay, okay, hurry up, get back here,” Jamack was already yelling at her from backstage. Harris took her guitar and Kwat sprayed her face with a water spritzer.

“Hey!” she said.

“Freshen up! We leave in thirty minutes!” Jamack shrieked.

Kipo wanted to sit in front of the vanity mirror, the outline of lights sparkling, smiling back at her, like, “good job, girl!” She wanted to go down into the crowd, hug people, thank them. She wanted to thank them for making this all possible. For letting her live her dream.

Sometimes people saw her on the street and thanked her and told her she was amazing and how she lifted their spirits and how they listened to her everyday on the way to work or school. It was insane. She was so grateful that she could make something that people could resonate with. She didn’t feel like she was amazing. She just was so happy this was all happening.

Even though she couldn’t enjoy this moment because Kwat was spraying the back of her head with the water spritzer again but she would always have these memories. She would always remember. She wished she could stay and see some of the cities. Site-seeing. Her dad could have never imagined. It was so different from the books.

Harris loaded her into the boxy old-style car, shut the door on her, the woosh of air making her skin cool under the water droplets that still hadn’t absorbed into her skin or evaporated. 

“It’s a long ride, lilypad, so rest up,” Kwat said. Harris drove the big truck. 

Jamack slid into shotgun. “Go!” he snarled.

They drove into the night.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Jamack had her on a grueling tour schedule. She didn’t really feel it until a few months in. She had just mostly been excited to see so many people. Live out her dream.

But she was being run raw. 

Her rule was to never miss a call from her dad. She had missed like five in the last three weeks.

It really sucked.

Mandu nuzzled into Kipu’s lap. She always knew when she was sad. Kipu stroked her head and scratched behind her ears.

She was so glad that Mandu was with her. Even though this experience was amazing and awesome it was lonely. Kwat and Harris weren’t much good company, and Jamack was always stressed and yelling at her. 

Mandu was so loyal. He even found a way onto vehicle when Jamack had swooped down at snapped her up on that fateful day. 

She was singing to herself (well, Mandu always listened, she was very supporting), pretending to put on a concert for the ravine behind her house, like she always did, and Jamack swooped in.

She had no idea what was happening. A rope tied around her waist and lifted her up. She shrieked.

“A voice on that one, right!” she heard a strange voice declare.

“Just get her in here,” another voice growled.

She twisted and shouted. 

And then they threw her into the music business. 

Jamack made her sing in front fo Mrs. Sartori and they were off. 

She was so glad to have Mandu with her on this crazy journey. 

When Jamack first took her, he was so mad when he realized Mandu had somehow snuck onto the vehicle. 

“What is that, a dog?” Jamack cried.

Kipu tried to explain that Mandu was not a dog. Jamack scowled and growled and said “dogs aren’t allowed on tour!” 

“Should we drop him back home, boss?” Kwat asked.

Oh that could be a good idea. Then she could say goodbye to her dad. Or maybe her dad could come with her...

“Yeah, sure,” Kipo said. Everyone looked at her, Kwat on one end in surprise, and Jamack on the other end in disdain and disbelief.

“Okay,” Jamack said, signalling with his hand.

Harris opened the door. Wind flooded in whipped around, rattling her brain.

“Wait, what????” Kipu shrieked. 

Mandu cried too. 

“You said we could drop him off!” Kwat said.

“Not like this!”

Harris tried to grab Mandu from Kipu, but Kipu flipped out of the car with her.

“No, the merchandise!”

They lassoed her back into the car.

“It’s both of us or none of us!” Kipu snapped.

“Fine! Whatever! Keep your stupid dog!”

“She’s not stupid.” Kipu snapped. “She’s smarter than you!”

Jamack let out an indignant cry of disbelief.

“And she isn’t a dog,” Kipu muttered.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Kipo looked out the dark window as she pet Mandu on the head. She didn’t even know how Mandu managed to latch on, but she was grateful. It was nice to have a friend on the road. Jamack was warming up to her, she knew. But still. She missed her dad a lot. Even though going on tour and singing was super fun, she wanted to be with her family, but it still was kind of messed up that

She hugged Mandu tighter and tried to fall asleep.

  
  
  
  


She played a show the next night and they were on the road yet again. But the next afternoon they weren’t at a stadium or arena.

They were at an austere office building.

“What’s going on?”

“We have been summoned,” Harris said ominously.

“It’s Mrs. Sartori!” Kwat exclaimed. “She

“Shut up,” Jamack hissed while Harris elbowed Kwat on the head.

“Alrightie, let’s see what Mama wants,” Kipo said. She stepped towards the building only to be yanked back by her shirt.

“Hey, what gives?” she asked.

“No so fast,” Jamack said, while Harris still held onto her shirt like he was picking up a puppy by the scruff. “You need to shower first. You stink.”

  
  
  
  
  


After she had showered and was dressed appropriately according to Jamack, they waited in the hallway outside Mrs. Sartori’s office. Two guards stood outside, hands clasped behind their backs.

“Aw Harris, they kind of look like you!” Kipo said looking up at his ever-scowling face.

Harris said nothing. 

Finally one of the guards nodded almost imperceptibly at Jamack.

“Alright, let’s go. Look sharp. Tuttut,” Jamack said, looking like he wanted to wrestle with Kipo’s hair, straighten her clothes, and maybe give her another bath.

The doors opened to reveal a circular room, left and right walls filled to the ceiling with overflowing bookcases. There were two large tables, one on either side, and then Mrs. Sartori’s main table in the middle. Maps and pencils overflowed on the table to the left and the table to the right was pristine, like it had never been used before. The carpet was royal purple, lush like foliage. Kipo wished she could take her shoes off and squeeze it between her toes. She wished she could roll around in it and sleep with it. She had no idea why such a wonderful material was at a place of work.

Mrs. Sartori’s hands were on her desk and she looked at them critically.

“Hello,” Jamack said, somehow stumbling over the one word he said. He bowed so low his head almost touched the floor.

“How are you?” Kipo asked Mrs. Sartori. “I like your office.”

Mrs. Sartori said nothing. 

“Has the talent been up to your standards? We have been keeping up with the schedule you have set for us,” Jamack said, talking to the floor, body still bent in his bow. 

Mrs. Sartori didn’t reply to him either.

“There’s been some changes to the lineup,” she declared instead, staring icily at Kipo.

“What? I’ve been cut?” Kipo didn’t really know how to feel. At first she was shocked. Was she not good enough? Did she fail them somehow?

But then she was like, maybe I can see my dad. 

Mrs. Sartori closed her eyes briefly. “No. We are adjusting your act.”

“Wow, okay. Like the tour schedule?”

“No.” Mrs. Sartori’s eyes flicked up to the door. Kipo turned around trying to figure out what was going on.

The door clicked open.

As the door opened, Mrs. Sartori announced, “Meet your new bandmate.”


	2. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new arrival and new information

The door opened to reveal a miniscule figure in a light blue wolf hat, the kind that dangles all the way past your shoulders. She had pieces of the sky dangling around her, like she was perpetually flying, perpetually above all of this. The ear fluff was white, and the nose and eyes were black dots, like coal on a depiction of a stereotypical snowman. The hat looked so fluffy, but not as soft as the carpet.

Nothing could be as soft as the carpet.

“I get a bandmate?!” Kipo whirled around to face the girl and bounded up to her, extending her hand. “Hi! I’m Kipo!”

Kipo looked up to see that Mrs. Sartori’s guards stood right behind the little girl. Kipo wondered what that was about.

Kipo grinned at the girl. “What’s your name?”

Jamack looked at the little girl in surprise. “Wolf?”

“Your name is Wolf? That is so cool!” Kipo said.

“I hate this so much!” Wolf groaned.

Apparently the wolf hat was very cute but Wolf was not very fluffy and soft like her hat companion.

Kipo didn’t know what to say for a moment, maybe for the first time in her life. 

“Tough luck,” Jamack grouched and Kipo wondered what Jamack had against her. “That’s the show business!”

“I don’t understand why this is happening,” Wolf snapped. “I was fine on my own.”

“You certainly were not,” Mrs. Sartori cut in, and everyone but Wolf stood a little straighter to attention, “as we have already discussed with you,” she finished coldly, unimpressed eyes narrowing. 

Wolf turned her glare to Kipo which cut a little, but Kipo gave her a thumbs up back. “Joining me up with this idiot isn’t going to help anyone.” 

Kipo turned a defiant expression to Wolf. “Hey!” 

Jamack had the same thought, looking at her incredulously.

Mrs. Sartori did her favorite thing which was to ignore what she thought was irrelevant noise. She turned to Kipo. Kipo stood at attention.

“I have cancelled several shows of the tour for the time being. You both will stay here and record new songs, or adapt your current songs into duets, after which you will resume the remainder of the tour. The writers will give your material to you and the vocal coach will be by later for lessons.” 

Well, what can you do? The boss has spoken. “Sounds good,” Kipo said excited for a new challenge, because what else was she going to do? She tried looking over her shoulder at Mrs. Sartori as everyone pushed her out the door. “Bye!”

  
  
  
  
  
  


After leaving Mrs. Sartori in her office, they followed Jamack down the hall to the recording studio.

“You get your own bodyguards?” Kipo did not hide her wide-eyed inspection of the guards glued to Wolf’s tail.

Wolf didn’t reply.

Kipo suddenly had a brilliant idea. You know what always got people talking? “Hey, you want to get something to eat?” She moved to nudge Wolf’s side, but Wolf moved away in a half flinch, half duck, all glare

“You are supposed to be recording,” Jamack singsonged with a sigh, staring at the ceiling like he was tired of all of this. 

Maybe he should take a break then.

Kipo sent him an exaggerated sad face. “We are allowed to eat lunch. I am starving! Let’s go eat.”

“You can go to the vending machine and that’s the final offer,” Jamack’s words arrived like little dark soldiers out of the mist, ominously, and evenly space, in geometric rows.

Kipo sighed. A girl could try. “Is this any way to treat the talent?” she grumbled, barely joking. 

No one replied. 

“What are you getting?” Kipo asked, when they reached the vending machine.

Wolf crossed her arms and glared at the wall.

It didn’t take a genius to feel the unhappy waves coming off of Wolf. But it can’t be anything that some food can’t fix, right?

“I’ll eat just about anything,” Kipo barreled on. “I really like chocolate. And Twinkies. And pop tarts. I really like just about anything. I’ll do sour punch straws too. I just love candy.”

“Is that why you never stop talking?” Wolf asked and Kipo almost jumped in surprise. She grinned widely. 

“Are you on a perpetual sugar high?” Wolf continued. 

“Whaaaaat? Noooo.” Kipo was pleased. Her plan was working. “So what about you?” she prompted. 

“I’m fine.”

“Well, I’ll just get some snacks for us later in case you get hungry later.” She got some bags of chips and pretzels. “Recording is hard work, you know??”

Wolf stiffened. Hm. Kipo wondered why that was the sore spot out of all of this. 

Maybe everything was a sore spot. She would find something, though. 

“Where are you from?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’m from Clover Valley.”

Wolf didn’t reply.

“What kind of music do you like?“

“Why do you care?”

Kipo had a million other things to ask but she could also just talk about herself. He also loved doing that. 

“I feel like everyone likes their parents’ music when they are little,” Kipo explained as Jamack led them to the studio and then got them settled in. 

“I am starting to warm up to dubstep, you know?” Kipo continued.

Wolf stood in a corner still with her arms crossed. 

Jamack He looked like he was about to settle in too. Kipo fought a frown. That wouldn’t do.

“Jamack,” Kipo began in her best pleading voice. Jamack already steeled his rejection face. Oh, come on, Kipo thought ruefully.

“What?”

“We need to get our groove back on.”

“Your groove should always be on.”

“No, but like, Me and Wolf together. We need to bond.” Kipo glanced at Wolf then back at Jamack. “Can we have some time alone?”

“No.”

“We need to work on our chemistry!”

“This is singing. There’s no science in singing.”

“That is literally fundamentally not true at all,” Wolf muttered. 

“See? We need this! I have so much to learn from Wolf.”

“Don’t learn too much,” Jamack warned. 

“If anything, she needs to learn from you,” Kwat began, and then Harris banged a fist on his head, like a judge dropping a gavel.

“Ow,” Kwat protested sadly. 

Kipo looked at Jamack expectantly.

“No.”

“This will be good for us!”

“I need to make sure you work.”

“The writers aren't even here yet,” Kipo pointed out just as Wolf’s guards opened the door and allowed two writers to drop stacks of sheet music on the table.

Jamack looked at her pointedly. The writers left without speaking

“We will work,” Kipo promised.”

“And I need to make sure you two aren’t wasting time.”

“Wolf’s guards will be outside.”

Jamack looked at them out the clear glass wall, a little unsure of the prospect. Wolf’s guards were completely nonplussed.

“It could be a good idea,” Kwat piped up carefully. “I am very hungry.”

Harris scraped one of his toes behind him, saying nothing. Maybe he was also hungry.

Kipo could tell she was winning them over. “You guys can have a nice meal. Enjoy the sun! It will be fun. We will stay here and be busy and do work.”

“You’d better. Mrs. Sartori is going to put us back on the road very soon and you guys better sound good on the material.”

“Yes, Jamack, we know, we know, we got this!” Kipo said. “Go out! Have fun! We’ll see you later. Shoo!”

Finally they got rid of Jamack.

Kipo sighed and slunk onto the furry bench pressed against the wall. This was nowhere near as soft as Mrs. Sartori’s carpet. She missed it. She wondered where she got it. 

“Whew! I thought they would never leave!” Kipo sighed looking at Wolf hopefully. Maybe she would feel more comfortable to talk with Jamack gone. He was pretty crazy.

Wolf looked out the window at her bodyguards intently.

“So. Uh.” Kipo didn’t know how to approach this. She knew she probably shouldn't but she was dying to know. “What happened? With your old act.”

Wolf flinched almost imperceptibly. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Things will not be okay until I escape from here.”

Alarm shot through Kipo’s heart.

“Escape? Did they do something to you?”

Wolf looked at her in disgust. “Did they brainwash you so much that you forgot what they did to you?”

“What?”

“Killing your family? Kidnapping you? Ring a bell?”

Kipo’s heart froze over. “What?”

“Oh, geez.” Wolf rubbed her face. “You didn't know. Sorry to break it to you, kid. That’s why I am trying to get out. And get revenge.”

“I mean. They took me. But? They didn’t touch my family.”

“That you know of.”

Terror seized Kipo’s brain. 

“I need to find my family.” Kipo’s voice cracked. 

Wolf snorted. “You don't stand a chance. You wouldn’t even be able to get out of here.”

“And you can?” 

Wolf sniffed. “That’s what I have been planning to do this whole time.

The door clicked open, interrupting Kipo’s interrogation.

Cotton and Camilie arrived, looking punk, severe, and beautiful as ever. 

“Hey, Cotton,” Kipo said. If the vocal coaches noticed a lack of her normal enthusiasm she didn’t notice it.

“Hello, Ms. Kipo,” Cotton said not uncoldly.

However, she turned to Wolf with disdain. “Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here? I thought it would just be the happy one.”

“Oh, they didn’t tell you?” Kipo smiled tightly. “Mrs. Sartori put me and Wolf together.”

“What a disaster,” Cotton rolled her big bright eyes, her gaze slicing through the air, practically drawing blood. “Mrs. Sartori is an idiot.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Camilie quivered.

Mrs. Cotton snorted. “What. She has ears the size of buttons,” Mrs. Cotton hissed darkly. 

Kipo almost pointed out that Mrs. Cotton’s ears were also very small but she forced herself to keep quiet.

Maybe if they could get this over with she could talk to Wolf more.

“What are we learning today Mrs. Cotton?” 

“Well. I thought we were going to have fun today but apparently it is going to be torture,” Mrs. Cotton said pointedly.

“No, Mrs. Cotton,” Kipo said sweetly, “how can it be torture when we are together?”

“She makes an excellent point,” Camilie squeaked.

“Alright then. Get your food holes in gear.” Mrs. Cotton commanded, as Camilie distributed the music. “A-one, a-two, a-one, two, three, four—”


	3. Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kipo has questions

There had yet to be a good moment to talk to Wolf, and Kipo’s anxiety and curiosity compounded like dunes blowing away and rebuilding in a desert storm. 

Jamack returned before Cotton was done with their training. The writers dropped off even more music. Cotton, maybe getting bored, gave them homework, and left in a huff of flying papers that Jamack flailed to catch. 

Jamack rushed them down the hall and into the elevator, and led them to their rooms. 

Mrs. Sartori had apartments for the artists in her building so no one would have to leave the premises. There was a gym (Kipo had never gone in there), a swimming pool (Kipo wished she could have gone in there), a games room (she had never seen anyone actually using it), and a cafeteria (which wasn’t very good. Kipo wished she could order something. She missed manti and chuchvara. She missed jiaozi and rice balls. She wanted her dad.)

Mrs. Sartori put them in the same room and Wolf’s bodyguards stood outside.

“Okay, now can you please explain to me what is going on?” Kipo yelled. 

“Why are you a walking dinner bell?” Wolf hissed.

“Why are you so cryptic about everything?”

Wolf glared and rustled around the room.

“What are you doing?”

Instead of replying, Wolf yanked more drawers opened and rustled around. Finally she found a skinny black remote, and brandished it at the tv. The screen clicked on and Wolf cranked the volume up.

“Okay, ow, I thought you didn’t like the sound of friendly conversation,” Kipo yelled over the TV.

Wolf jumped around the room, closing the vents, closing the curtains, and eyeing the door suspiciously all the while.

“Are we making a bunker?” Kipo laughed nervously.

“The first reasonable thing you have said all day,” Wolf muttered.

She yanked the phone off the reciever and put it to her ear and slammed it down.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for bugs.”

“The room looks pretty clean, I don’t think there would be bugs here.”

Wolf’s eye twitched. “Bugs. Like. Wires.”

“There are wires behind the TV.’

“Why are you like this?”

“If you explained anything to me maybe I could try harder!”

“It’s so no one can hear us, genius.”

“You think they are listening to us?”

Wolf paused, glum. “I mean, hopefully they got stupid and complacent, but you can never be too careful.”

“Wow, okay.” This had to be as good a time as any. “So... do you really think they hurt my family?”

Wolf met her eyes for a moment. “There’s no way to no for sure, but yea, probably. I’m just trying to get out of here.”

Kipo froze, holding her breath, her spine straight, trying to freeze everything in her body, trying to hold back her tears. “Okay. But you have to help me find my family.”

Wolf looked away. “It’s probably too dangerous for you.”

“I don’t care.”

“I have myself to worry about and I can’t have you jeopardizing the mission.”

“Take me with you or I’ll tell them you are trying to escape.”

Wolf glared at her, practically growling. “I can’t believe this.” She huffed. “Okay. Fine. But you do everything I say. And if you mess up, I’m leaving you, no questions asked.”

Kipo tried not to sniffle. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Good.“

They went to evening practice and were returned to their rooms. They overheard Kwat’s exclamation of the TimberCats overrunning the charts. 

“We have a lot of work to do,” Jamack said pointedly. “Don't mess this up. Rest well because we won't wait for you.”

Kipo was happy Wolf let her shower first. When she returned, Wolf had thrown open the windows, and Kipo was freezing. She had half a mind to go back into the hot shower. A sa compromise she climbed into bed and drew the covers all the way up.

“It’s your turn,” Kipo said, while Wolf flipped open a knife from her pocket and started cutting the curtains.

“Whoa, where did you get that?” Kipo exclaimed.

“Shh,” Wolf hissed.

“Sorry.”

After Wolf finished, she jumped down and put the knife away. She turned off all the lights and crawled onto her bed.

“Are you asleep?” Kipo asked.

“Obviously not. I just sat down.”

“Okay. Me either.”

“Okay, thanks, Kipo.”

Kipo stared out the window. “The sky is so pretty.”

“What?”

“You can see Perseus!”

“The what?” 

“The constellation. He overcomes the Gorgon and marries Andromeda. It’s a Greek myth.”

“Oh. So you like that stuff?”

“I love astronomy. All science really. My dad is a really good teacher.”

“He didn’t teach you how to fight by any chance, did he?”

“No. He mostly believes in peaceful solutions. He’s a chill guy.”

“Great.” Wolf glanced up.

Kipo waited for her to speak.

“I think we are ready.”

Kipo looked down through the open window at the several-story drop below.

“Is there any other way?”

“You can stay if you want,” Wolf said, already climbing over the window sill.

“Okay, okay, fine, whatever. I just thought maybe your plan wouldn’t involve us dying,”

“We will have to take that chance.”

Kipo wished she had worked on her upper body strength. She wished exercising her brain could simultaneously exercise other parts of her body. If that could happen, she would be unstoppable. She tried to meditate on the task at hand, trying to coax some secret superstrength out of herself. Her dad always said she was special. If she could just find something—

“Okay, I can’t hold on much longer, I’m just going to let go,” Kipo whispered into the night.

“Wait, what, no—”

Air rushed by Kipo as she dropped, landing on Wolf’s shoulders along the way, and they crumpled to the ground.

“Why do you do this,” Wolf grunted from underneath her.

“Sorry. At least we are down now.”

Wolf stood up and shook out her ilmbs. “Okay, follow me and be quiet.”

Wolf seemed to know the grounds pretty well. They stuck near the building, hiding in the shadows on the walls.

They walked for what seemed like way too long. How big was this building?

“Where are we going?”

“Out.”

“Do you have an escape vehicle?”

“Yeah. It’s my legs.”

“Do you even have a plan??”

“Yeah. It was to get out. And it succeeded.”

Kipo wished she had a jacket. “Where are you going to go after this?”

“Anywhere that’s not here.”

“Okay. Well. If this is the last thing we do together it’s been really nice knowing you.” 

Wolf didn’t reply. Kipo kind of hoped Wolf had warmed up to her at least a little by now. Maybe this was all she was going to get for the time being. 

“I don’t know how I am going to get home.”

“That is your problem.”

“Won’t they just find me again?”

“Not if you stay hidden.”

“I don’t know how. I don’t know what I was doing wrong the first time.”

Kipo looked at Wolf in the moonlight. Her curls, voluminous, dramatic, and beautiful, carved artistic lines over her forehead and eyes. Her wolf hood probably crushed her afro far smaller than its normal size. Her shoulders were always tense. She was always on high alert. Kipo wondered where she came from. Kipo wondered how she got this way. All in awe, and curiosity. Wolf was one of the most interesting people she had ever met.

“I’ll help you get home.”

Hope stammered in Kipo’s heart. “Really?” she smiled in the dark.

Wolf froze and Kipo bumped into her.

“Sorry,” Kipo hissed, but Wolf grabbed her hand and yanked her sideways. They practically fell   
She stuck close to Wolf, and they ducked down into a stairwell, descending into ground, leading to a locked door, and very musty, practically opaque windows.

“Can you smell anything?” Kipo heard someone say. If she strained really hard, she could hear their footsteps rustling in the wet grass.

“No, why can you smell something?” a second voice asked. 

“Maybe I am just hungry.”

“You are always hungry.”

Kipo wanted to ask Wolf if these were guards. She wanted to ask Wolf if this was part of the plan. She wanted to know if maybe those people would help her escape.

“What can I say? I’ve gone soft. This is no place for hunting,” the first one continued.

“You are so dramatic. None of this is like hunting at all.”

Flashlights swept the lawn, cool and wet. Kipo’s heart thundered dubstep in her chest.

A thud, not muffled enough by the grass, made Kipo jump.

“What was that?” the first guard said.

“Crap,” a new voice said. Kipo alerted. It sounded like a kid, like them. “Run!”

The guards sprint away in search of the owner of the new voice.

Wolf waited for a heartbeat and then yanked Kipo up the stairs back onto ground level. “Okay, now’s our chance. Let’s get out of here.”

Kipo stared after where the guards left. “What happened? Who are they chasing?”

“Who cares?” Wolf said, boldly walking away from the protection of the building’s shadows, apparently confident that the guards would be busy enough. “Let’s go.”

Something twinged in Kipo’s heart. “We have to help them. What if they are like us?”

Kipo imagined, more than saw, Wolf’s mouth twitch disapprovingly. “What?”

“What if they are trying to escape like us? We have to help them. And they could help us!”

“We don’t have to do anything.”

“Okay. You go on and I’ll help them.”

“You don’t even know where they went or who they are. Don't do this.”

“I have to. Bye, Wolf.”

Kipo ran after the guards, hoping that a plan would come to her between now and when she saw them.


	4. Addition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape attempt with unexpected results

The guards had someone surrounded. 

“What do we even do with him?” a guard asked.

“We can’t wake up Billions.”

“I guess we just take him inside and let someone deal with him in the morning.” 

“Okay, but before you do that, I just need to get some soda for my boy! Let me grab some and I’ll come right back.”

The guards looked down into their circle. 

“Haha, very funny, that is no good,” said one of the guards.

Kipo took a deep breath. Alright. Well, here goes nothing.

She approached them and stood as tall as she could, expanding her chest like an alpha gorilla. “Thank you officers. Wonderful job.”

All the guards stood at attention and whirled around. They looked at her, dumb-foundned.

“Another trespasser?” one of them cried.

“An escapist, dummy,” another corrected.

“You all did very well in this training exercise,” Kipo said in her best executive voice. “It was almost too easy. We’ll have to up the ante next time, huh?”

They all looked at one of the guards. Maybe he was their leader. “Who are you?” the leader asked.

“I’m the undercover boss.”

“We don’t have an undercover boss.”

Kipo nodded sagely. “That’s what you think. As you should, since I am undercover. Now, thanks for your excellent work, team. I’ll take it from here.”

The guards looked at each other in confusion. Kipo had to seal the deal now. She pushed in between the guards into the circle.

The trespasser was a boy, taller than her, but not that much older. He had bright amber eyes, a lime green hat, and a pink collared shirt. He looked like the most delightful, elegant candy store.

“Come with me, boy,” she said in her best, deepest, strongest imitation of Wolf.

“Uh what is going on?” the boy asked when she grabbed his arm. He stood up after her and followed her for a few paces.

“What are you guys waiting for? Get them!”

So, Kipo’s plan hadn’t quite worked. 

The guards took them into the building and locked them in a room, apparently until dawn.

“What if we have to go to the bathroom?” the boy asked. 

“Hold it,” the guard growled.

And the guards left them in the dark.

“Hi, I’m Kipo,” Kipo said. “What is your name?”

“Benson. Nice to meet you, but we gotta get out of here.”

“Are you trying to escape too? My friend Wolf was also trying to escape last night.”

“Escape? No, no. I just was sneaking out to get some grub for me and my boy. But I guess I miscalculated.” He sighed, leaning against the wall and slumping down into the floor.

Kipo sat next to him.

“Is he... will he be okay?”

Benson looked up at the dark ceiling. “I think he’ll be okay. I just worry, you know?”

Kipo felt for him.

Kipo and Benson passed the time bouncing ideas off of each other.

“The wall is definitely thick to break though, right?” Kipo checked. 

Benson knocked on the wall behind them. “Yeah, I think so.”

“And we checked for secret passage ways out of here?”

“Well, we tried our best, but since it's so dark, it's honestly super hard to tell.”

Kipo hummed glumly.

“We might be able to steal a key off of a guard when they come back to check on us, right?” she asked, eyeing the door.

“Okay!” Benson rubbed his hands together, newly invigorated. “Now we are onto something.” 

The next time the guards arrived, things did not go as planned.

“So, hey,” Benson said, trying to start the distraction, which was step one of their plan.

Before he could continue, a small force knocked him to the ground. 

“Oof.”

“What?”

“You will be sorry you ever did this!” the tiny dark figure snarled.

“Wolf?” Kipo exclaimed, delight overtaking surprise and confusion.

“Oh, good, it’s you,” Wolf said liltingly. Kipo could hear the glare in her voice. She ran over to hug Wolf who breezily sidestepped away.

“Oh, right. No hugging. I missed you! “I thought you would have left!”

“She tried. We barely caught her,” the guard grumbled. 

“I cannot believe this!”

“Oh, boy,” Benson muttered. 

“Hiiii, Jamack,” Kipo said in her sweetest voice. 

“You all have so much time on your hands that you can take nightly strolls instead of resting?”

“What, no, no,” Kipo tried, placatingly. 

“You know what?” Jamack said. Kipo could practically feel the hot steam coming out of his ears.”

“You’ll let us go?” Benson asked.

Jamack’s glare blazed. “No absolutely not. You all can start doing dress rehearsals in front of a live audience.”

At first that didn’t seem like much of a punishment. Turns out, Benson was added to their team as a backup dancer. 

They also eventually could meet his boy.

“Does he dance too?” Kipo asked, cooing sweetly into the baby crib. The little swaddled up bundle rocked back and forth, snapping his mouth open and shut.

“No, he is my personal trainer,” Benson explained.

Kipo looked at him in disbelief. Benson did not look like he was joking about this tiny baby being his personal trainer. “Oohh, okaayy...”

They performed their dress rehearsals in front of a live audience in the ModFrog auditorium. It was dark, which is normal, but there was a really different energy. It wasn’t hype at all. It was very chill and low key. 

And a lot tougher. Like, judgemental. It was almost like doing stand up. Kipo had never been heckled going on stage before. 

Their first show went proportionately terribly. At first, Kipo thought that there was some choreography that she hadn’t been taught for some reason. She was also wondering why the background dancers were dressed like guards.

Then she realized that they were guards.

Was Wolf trying to escape? Without her?

The crowd was none the wiser. Some enjoyed the show, despite the ominous tone set by the hecklers. Some of them booed Wolf twhen wolf came out. Wolf scowled at them, and spread her arms wide, like, “come at me bro.”

“Hey, guys, what’s shaking,” Kipo yelled into the mic.

The audience cheered.

“I have a friend here with me today. Her name is Wolf.”

Some people booed, some people cheered.

“You guys are going to love her. I sure do.”

Kipo felt their confusion but knew that she wouldn't be able to appease them just by talking. The only thing that could help them now was singing.

“Are you guys ready to rock?” she asked, slamming down a riff, trying to electrify the crowd.

And like it did every time it worked like a charm.

They wrapped up a show, and headed back to their rooms. Kipo thought Wolf looked a little grouchier than usual. But also it was super hard to tell. She really did feel for her. She hated it here.

She waited patiently on her bed, looking at Wolf expectantly as Wolf bustled around the room, energy apparently not spent at dress rehearsal.

“Why are you looking at me?”

Kipo blinked sweetly.

“Stop looking at me!”

Kipo kept a neutral face.

Wolf jumped onto her bed with a groan. “We can’t keep doing this.”

“Once we are on the road it will be so much easier to run away,” Kipo said.

“But when? How long will they make us keep playing their game?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t know what they want from us. It’s so weird.”

“Like, get your own talent and stop mooching off the rest of us.”

“Something will happen soon,” Kipo said earnestly, wishing she could soothe Wolf somehow. “I can feel it. We will get out of here.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A social media development

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wolf POV

“Guys, I think you’re gonna wanna see this.”

Wolf didn’t know how or why everyone in the world didn’t have reasonable reactions to energy-draining performances except for her, but this was her curse, she guessed. 

“Oooh, show me,” Kipo said, wiping sweat from her forehead into her bangs.

Wolf watched as the crew put away her keyboard. “Her” keyboard. She couldn’t say she hadn't gotten a certain attachment to it. Even though she hated every second of her life other than when she was playing it. 

She glanced at Kipo’s awed face as she looked at Benson’s phone. 

“Kipo, come on, we need to go.” She glared at Benson but they were both still glued to his screen.

“Whoa. Wait.” Kipo widened her eyes at Benson. “Are we going to this?”

“I mean. We have to.”

As much as Wolf didn’t care about whatever they were looking at, she did care about getting on the bus so they could go shower and somewhere. And stop talking. 

“Honestly, who even let you have a phone,” she grumbled, stomping over there, intending to swipe it out of Kipo’s hands. 

“No, no, but look?” Kipo said, holding the phone too close to Wolf’s face.

Wolf took a step back with a bored judgemental expression. Still, she humored Kipo, and looked at the phone screen. 

Similar cover stories were splashed on the homepages of news, gossip, and lifestyle websites. 

_ The gauntlet has been thrown by the TimberCats: will ModFrogs accept the challenge? _

_ The Return of battle-of-the-bands-style festival circuit: a highly anticipated ModFrogs v TimberCats matchup is expected to pull in thousands _

_ Fans want to know once and for all: who is the king of the game right now? _

“You guys need to get a hobby,” Wolf snorted. “Maybe you guys should try touring around the country with a relentless schedule and a boss who doesn’t care one way or another about us.”

“Aww, Wolfie,” Benson said, with an exaggerated frowny face and large watery puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, but I think you are going to appreciate my hobbies when I tell you the plan to get out of here.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


At the next stop they had some time to rest. Kipo and Benson sprawled on the floor, Benson propped up on his elbows, and Kipo cross-legged, on the floor making a card tower and Dave curled on Kipo’s bed reading a takeout menu, but making a huge production out of is.

“How does path thai sound?” Dave said. “Sushi? Bacon burger. It’s a tough race today. So many great options.”

“Whatever’s good for you,” Kipo said amiably as Wolf wondered why this couldn’t all be happening in Benson’s and Dave’s room. Then again, she needed to be able to kick Benson and Dave out at a reasonable time so Kipo could get some rest. If they were over there who knows what shennanigans they would be getting up to late into the night.

They heard Jamack’s shuffling and squawking long before he barged into the room. Wolf did not understand how he could possibly have a key to their room. That had to be some kind of ethics violation or something.

“You! What did you do!” Jamack howled, the wind from the door bursting open making the card tower shiver. 

Kipo jumped in surprise. “What? Me? I didn’t do anything!”

“Then what is this?” Jamack spat, throwing his phone down, this time, right through the card tower. It fell to the ground, the cards whispering in protest. 

“No!” Benson wailed, as Kipo picked up the phone and looked at it.

Wolf wondered what it was and whether this whole ordeal could be taken outside. 

“Um, Jamack,” Kipo said, and held the phone back up to Jamack, “Mrs. Sartori is calling,” she said as Jamack squawked again and swept the phone out of her hand, juggling it in the air comically, before getting a grip on it and putting it up to his face.

“Hello?” he said, voice warbling like he was underwater.

“Jamack. This is a video call. Do not play these games with me.”

“Eeeep, sorry, sorry, madam,” Jamack snapped his arms straight and looked into the screen. “How are you doing?”

“What is the meaning of this?”

“We are getting it under control.”

“In what ways? Timbercats want us to host this absolute money drain of an event.”

“We don’t have to comply with their demands,” Jamack squeaked. 

“And look like cowards and disorganized fools? Maybe that’s okay with you Jamack but that is not how I run my company.”

“Oooh, burn!” Dave groaned.

“We have to do it. Prepare a routine at once. Don't disappoint me.”

Jamack hung his arms down limply, phone screen black once again.

He bent down, face twisted in rage. “You!”

Kipo crawled back on her hands. “What?”

“I don’t know what you did, but you will pay for this!”

“Well it sounds like Mrs. Sartori is going to pay for it,” Dave said. Jamack whirled around on him and Benson shot up. 

“Okay! Well it seems we have a lot to do so maybe we should head home and regroup?”

Jamack looked like he was going to argue but Kipo stood up and ushered him out the door. 

“It will be great, Jamack. We got this. We’ll see you tomorrow!”

Kipo closed the door behind him and looked between Benson and Wolf. 

“Okay! So let’s party!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Big competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wolf POV

The morning of the competition was just like any other day. Maybe Kipo was more jittery than usual but she always took performances way too seriously. 

They went to hair and makeup, as usual. Kipo got hair and makeup done, Wolf didn’t. Everything as usual. 

Kwat poked his head in. “You about ready or what?”

“If I say no, will you let us stay here?”

Harris emerged from behind Kwat, tall and arms crossed menacingly. Wolf rolled her eyes. As if that could intimidate her anymore.

Kipo let the hairstylist spray one final blast of Cool Tropical Breeze hairspray on and then she jumped out of her chair. She grinned at Kwat and Harris. “Ready to go!”

Kwat and Harris escorted them backstage. 

“The TimberCats are entering from the other side of the stage,” Kwat explained, gesturing vaguely.

“Neat!” Kipo said.

The hallway door slammed open. Benson jumped. 

“Oh, hey, Jamack,” Kwat said as Jamack stalked over to them, eyes hard and hateful.

“You,” he said, jamming a pointed finger into Kipo’s sternum.

“Hey, watch it,” Kipo slid up to them, ready to shoulder her way in between them.

Kipo waved Jamack’s hand away. “Yeah, watch it, don’t let the wardrobe team catch you messing up my look!”

“You better win! This is all your fault!” 

“We’ll win, don’t even worry,” Kipo flapped her hand, waving him away, at the same time Wolf said, “what is our fault?”

Jamack huffed in their face and whirled around. Kwat and Harris followed him into the hallway. 

“Alright, see you after!” Kwat said. “Good luck!”

“Break ALL OF YOUR LEGS,” Jamack’s voice sounded very far away down the hallway.

The three of them blinked at each other for a moment.

“He loves us,” Benson grinned.

The Glamsters (Glam hamsters) opened for them. They riled the crowd up, rowdy and loud.

“Are you all ready FOR THIS?” the lead Glamster shrieked, echo and feedback ricochete throughout the auditorium. 

“Then get ready for the battle of your life!!!”

More cheers. 

“Simple battle rules. These two gigs jam out and you decide who the winner is!”

The cheering swelled like a wave.

“Are you ready?”

Wolf didn’t even hear the cue into her mic. She just saw Kipo and Benson drift forward onto the stage. She followed them.

As she emerged under the purple, blue, and red lights, their opponents emerged as well, under green, yellow, and orange lights. 

The TimberCats.

“And FIII-YYIIIII-YIIIIII-YIII-YII-IIGHT!”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The crowd was more into this than Wolf had ever seen—and crowds were always extremely into Kipo, always.

After a while, Wolf was pretty sure they were going to run out of repertoire. She glanced at Kipo—who wasn’t facing her or even the audience, but rather, Benson—who was wiggling his eyebrows in some weird dance on his forehead.

“Alrii-yi--yi--yi-yiiiight!” the Glamster came back onstage. “Wasn’t that incredible? Are you all ready to pick a winner?”

The crowd booed uproariously. Some people started chanting, “encore, encore, encore!”

“Well, we have a special surprise for you,” Kipo said into the mic, over the shocked and confused Glamster. “Are you ready?”

Much happier and more excited cheers erupted. 

“Give it up for Cotton and Umläut!”

The backdrop lifted and the spotlights twitched and flickered all over the stage. Two powerful ladies emerged from the shadows, brandishing their guitars like swords and shields. 

“Let’s show these kids how it’s done!”

  
  
  
  
  
  


At this point, between the screeching of the Glamsters, the licks of the Umläuts, and the hysteric strumming of the TimberCats, Wolf thought it might just be the perfect time to walk out.

And then the storm cloud rolled in. Smoke, thick with glitter and confetti, billowed onto stage from all directions. Wolf’s eyes watered. Was the pyrotechnics guy asleep? Or gone crazy? Also she did not trust anyone the ModFrogs hired to do pyrotechnics correctly or safely.

“What is happening?” Wolf yelled, then coughed through the specks of confetti that felt like it was coating her throat.

She thought she heard Kipo say something but she might have imagined it. 

“We have yet another special guest—quite the wonderful heart-stopping once in a lifetime surprise—our friends from out of town, the BUNtan BUNNIES! Give it up for BTB!”

If Wolf thought the crowd was into it before...

Well. 

The sound was completely different—the Bunnies and the crowd. She knew everyone loved Kipo. But the reaction to the Bunnies was different. This was a different ballgame. The Bunnies weren’t Wolf’s thing—none of this was her thing—but the Bunnies were worldwide. Mega pop stars. Wolf hadn’t realized it was possible to have devoted fans like the Bunnies did.

Maybe devoted was an understatement. 

The Bunny superfans (almost) quite literally blew the roof off the whole joint.

The doors to the auditorium were apparently open again. Fans screamed and crawled over each other. There was practically two or three layers of fans people stepping on people’s shoulders and heads. 

It could not have gotten more crazy. Which is what Wolf had thought when the Umläut Snakes arrived. But little did she know. 

A strong grip secured her upper arm and flipped her into the air. She shrieked. 

She was carried through the smoke and into the darkness. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Kipo?!”

It was dark but the smoke receded. Wolf took a breath of glitter-free air, though it still smelled like the sweat of a thousand bodies. 

“Wolf, it’s fine,” Kipo said. Wolf looked up. Kipo was dangling from a rope that hung from a hole in the ceiling. “We’re getting out of here!”

“What is happening?” 

“There’s no time, come on!” Benson poked his head down from the hole in the roof.

“Oh my god,” Wolf muttered. 

“Climb up here.”

They emerged onto the roof, the cool night air a stark contrast to the muggy smoky sweaty soup onstage. 

Wolf’s skin felt sticky like someone rubbed honey all over her. Or glue. Ew.

The stars twinkled and for a moment Wolf could be transfixed by Kipo’s admiration for them. The stars reflected in Kipo’s eyes infinitely and Wolf wished she could remember this moment forever. 

“Woooooo, there’s our ride!” Benson shrieked, throwing an arm over Wolf and Kipo’s necks, rattling them together.

Wolf glared at him but he was looking at the helicopter that descended towards the roof. 

A rope ladder dangled in front of them.

Dave stuck is head out, a big pair of headphones practically dwarfing his face.

“Hop in!”

  
  
  


Benson sat in the front with Dave and Kipo and Wolf sat in the back. Kipo stared out the helicopter in glee. 

Wolf was afraid she was going to fall out.

“Can’t you sit still or do you want to become a Kipo pancake?” Wolf snapped, as Kipo leaned out precariously, mouth open in awe.

“Also close your mouth or flies are going to get in.”

“Putting the frog in mod Frog,” Benson said. 

“Alright!” Dave said and they hi fived.

“No hi fiving while driving the plane! Have you even ever flown before?” Wolf snapped. 

“It’s fine, we’re escaping!”

“This was your big plan?” Wolf asked.

“Yes!” Benson said.

Wolf didn’t say anything. She wasn’t impressed necessarily. But. Whatever. At least they were out. 

Suddenly the helicopter was just a little louder than normal—as in it was already deafening and now Wolf thought she might be permanently hard of hearing. 

“What is going on?”

“Uh.”

“Dave?”

“Nothing, nothing, everything is fine,” Benson said. 

“Oh, no, hang on guys,” Kipo said, standing up.

“Kipo!” Wolf grabbed onto her waist, trying to sit her back down.

Then she saw it. 

Another helicopter descending, bobbing up and down right in front of them.

Jamack leaned out dramatically from the other copter. He had a megaphone. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Oh, boy.”

“Land this craft immediately!” Jamack said.

“Just fly over him,” Wolf said. 

“Yeah, yeah, then we would both crash, that is a great idea,” Benson cried. 

A third helicopter approached and Wolf groaned. 

“I knew this was too good to be true.”

“Jamack, report to the headquarters at once.” It was Mrs. Sartori’s voice over an advanced, clean-sounding PA system. 

“What? Mrs. Sartori—I—I’m getting them—this will be over in a jiffy—”

“Okay, Jamack, have it your way. You are fired.”

“What?” Jamack cried, “But—”

“I won’t hear anymore of this. Unless you want to explain how BTB showed up?”

“What? No, it was Kipo—she is the one to blame for all of this!”

“How could it possibly have been Kipo?” Mrs. Sartori loomed, her lips downturned, her eyes narrowed, and her voice savage. Each word lodged into Jamack like an arrow. He cowered. 

“This is a PR nightmare. Who knows how many patrons are getting trampled in there. How are we going to cover this up? How are we going to move forward from this?”

“The litigation alone will bankrupt us,” Kwat poked his head out from Mrs. Sartori’s helicopter.

“Quiet!” Mrs. Sartori boomed. “You disgust me,” she said coldly. 

“—and the Cats—and the Snakes!” Jamack blubbered, “They were traitors all along—” 

“Don't disrespect me any longer. Get out of my sight. It is you who is the traitor” Mrs. Sartori spun around, and walked away. She snapped her fingers. “Hurry up!” Kwat and Harris angled the helicopter up and floated away.

Jamack watched them leave.

“So, we’re ready to go, right?” Benson asked.

“You have to ask?”

They sped into the night, leaving Jamack, the ravaged auditorium, and the cacophony of fans behind. 


	7. Chapter 7

The purple sky welcomed them as the helicopter whirred, hurtling towards an unknown destination. 

Just when it seemed that someone should ask Dave where they were going, the helicopter began its descent. The ground floated towards them and the helicopter hiccuped as they landed in the grass. 

Wolf hopped out first, eying the scenery around them with suspicion. The rest stop off the nearest highway exit from the ModFrog complex wasn’t a place she had ever taken note of before, but there was a first time for everything. A few vehicles parked several feet away from them, windows dark and empty. Wolf normally would have encouraged everyone to lay low so she could scout out the situation but they landed in a helicopter. They did not have anything remotely like the element of surprise. 

“Okay, now what?” Wolf asked, turning back around, just as Kipo jumped out of the helicopter, and directly on top of her.

“Sorry, sorry!” Kipo’s eyes widened in Wolf’s face, and their breaths fanned out across each other’s noses for a moment.

Wolf sent a glare that she hoped said “watch where you are giong.”

“So, what now?” Wolf asked, taking a step back, as Dave and Benson hopped out of the copter too.

“Can you just get us home?”

“I can be of assistance,” Kipo grinned. 

“How? You know the least out of all of us,” Wolf started to say.

Headlights flashed, and a van rumbled and trudged towards them.

“Um, who is that?” Dave hid behind Benson. 

“The TimberCats!” Kipo exclaimed. 

The heavy side door slid open, chugging like a train, and Shoelace jumped out and scrambled towards them.

“That was so fun and amazing!” Shoelace gushed, grabbing Kipo’s hands. “Such an incredible opportunity. I had no idea music could sound like that!”

“Bad?” Wolf asked. Benson elbowed her.

“I never knew, like, something could feel so amazing and exciting,” Shoelace sighed, looking up at them with wistful eyes. “I feel so inspired!”

“I was too!” Kipo exclaimed, jumping up and down with Shoelace. “It was so amazing.”

Molly exited the van next, to collect Shoelace. “Thanks for the call,” she nodded at them, patting Shoelace on the back hardily. “It was pretty awesome.”

Kipo grinned at her. 

“Thanks for coming!” Benson said. 

“Yall getting home okay or what?” Molly asked. 

“Ummm,” Benson said. 

“I got it.”

They all turned to see a huge tourbus, completely illuminated, with jaggedy writing like vipers’ fangs, etched across the side: UMLÄUT SNAKES.

The busdoor swung open and someone jumped out nimbly.

“Cotton!” Kipo exclaimed. 

“I’ll take ya home, kid,” Cotton said. “It’s probably on the way, anyway.”

“Thank you so much!” 

Cotton nodded at her, a smug crinkle in her smirk, but fondness filled her gaze. 

“Can’t believe you convinced us to work with Cotton and her gang,” Yumyun emerged last from the van and ambled towards them.

“Likewise,” Cotton said thinly. 

“It was great jammin with ya!” Kipo said. “You cats stay cool.”

“And by that, we mean stay out of our way,” Cotton added.

“Likewise,” Molly said cordially.

“I hope we’ll see you again soon!” Shoelace whined. 

“You betcha,” Kipo sent them a thumbs up as Molly shoved Shoelace into the van.

“Bye now,” Molly said. “Take care of yaselves.”

“You, too,” Kipo replied, waving as Cotton ushered them into the tourbus.

Benson stuck his head out the window. “Hurry up!” he said. “Let’s go home!” 

  
  
  
  
  


“Who knew? The best genre is heavy metal country,” Benson sighed, settling into his seat on the tourbus.

“Country heavy metal and you have a deal,” Cotton said.

“Oh really?” Kipo said. “You’re letting the cats be listed first! See, I knew you guys liked each other!”

“No, the one listed first is the adjective or modifier, and the one at the end is the main genre,” Camille said.

“Nerd!” Dave yelled. Kipo shushed him.

“Well they failed to mention rap and electropop,” Benson murmured.

Kipo shushed him, too.

  
  
  
  


Somehow Cotton figured out where they needed to be based on Kipo’s vague flailing, meandering descriptions, and sparse drawings. 

Cotton slowed to a halt and the bus exhaled with a screech.

“Thanks for your help, guys,” Kipo said, clutching her hands together.

“You got it, kid,” Cotton said. “I’ve always liked ya.”

“It was fun!” Camille said.

Cotton’s hazel sharp eyes settled on Kipo warmly. “Wouldn’t mind doing it again sometime.”

Kipo looked like she just found an abandoned shack full of instruments and science textbooks. “That would be amazing!”

“Alright, see ya kid.”

“I’ll miss you!”

“Take care.”

They watched the bus pull away down the road. Kipo and Benson waved until they couldn’t see it anymore.

Kipo took a deep breath and looked up at the lightening gray-blue sky. “Alright,” she sighed. “We’re almost there. Let’s do this!”

  
  
  
  
  


They were not almost there. What was worse is that Kipo and Benson kept talking about the plan over and over again. Like. It was a great plan. It was done with and they were all out here now. Get over it. 

Kipo reviewed how she convinced Cotton to work with the TimberCats and help them all escape. 

“She hated it there,” Kipo said for the third time. “She never liked working there. She wanted to do her own thing.” 

Benson explained yet again how he invited and convinced the TimberCats to join the competition—and how he created the competition in the first place. 

“I’m friends with the Cats. I made them pancakes once. They loved it. Big maple syrup fans. Must be Canadian.”

“Whoa, they’re Canadian?” Kipo grinned.

“Yeah,” Benson declard matter-of-factly. “Little known fact about them.”

“Benson has literally no idea what he is talking about, don't listen to anything he says,” Wolf grumbled. 

Kipo threw an arm around her shoulders and gave her a walking hug. Wolf forced the smile off her face and let her hang on for a few moments too long. 

  
  
  
  


***

  
  
  
  


The grass grew tall, soft green, and cool. Kipo pushed a strand out of the way, and stepped through the thick foliage.

Happiness floated through her, warming her like chamomile tea and honey.

The electric manic thrill from winning the MuteOff slowly tapered down and she was flush with soft hopeful anticipation. 

“We are so close, I can feel it,” Kipo said, shadows flickering on her face. The tallgrass was a spotty barrier between her and the sun, but she still felt the warm touch spur her on.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re comin’,” Dave drawled, slow and brash, like tires skidding down asphalt. 

“Whoa, Kipo, slow down, don’t hurt yourself,” Benson laughed.

Kipo’s laugh escaped her mouth, too, as she turned back to stick her tongue out at him. “I can’t wait for you guys to meet my dad.”

“If he is anything like you, I’m sure we’ll get along great,” Dave said.

“And you guys can meet my friends, see where I go to school—”

“You...want us to stay?” Benson asked.

Kipo startled. “What? Of course! You guys will love it down there with us. In the village. We call it a Burrow from where I’m from.”

“A burrow? Are you all molepeople?” Wolf grumbled.

“Well. No. Kind of. I don’t know. Don’t say that around other people though because some people don’t like to be called that.”

“Would we stay with you?” Benson asked.

“Well, yeah, you totally can. We can build you guys a place right next to ours. My dad is super good at that stuff. And our neighbors would help too, if we asked.” Kipo thought about Miko, the small old lady who had a million pink sweaters, huge circle glasses taking up half her face, and a small gray bun on top of her head. And then Kipo thought about what Miko would do if she saw her grandsons lying around on the couch on a sunny day. “Honestly. even if we don’t ask, they would come over and help.”

“Awww,” Benson put a hand over his heart. “Your town sounds so cute, Kipo.”

Kipo beamed.

“Dang, alright, let’s go then!” Dave said, running ahead of Kipo, purposefully bumping into her hard as he went.

Kipo laughed. “Hey, wait up! You don’t even know what my house looks like!”

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


They waded through the tallgrass until their clothes were a little damp, and stained slightly green. 

At the end of the field, at the bottom of a hill, was a house, there was 

A garden spread the expanse of the yard behind the house. There were no fences. A butterfly, as orange as the sun, floated up the hill. 

A blue door opened, and a figure stepped out into the garden. A large hat flopped lazily on his head, and he surveyed the scene in front of him. He slowly looked up. His mouth slowly opened.

“Kipo?”

“Dad?”

Kipo ran down the hill. The man ran up to meet her.

They reached each other, and he lifted her up, and spun her around, and they stumbled down the hill. They laughed together, and it sounded like bells clamoring in celebration.

Benson, Wolf, and Dave followed them down.

“I am so happy you are safe.”

“I missed you so much!”

Benson scratched near his eye, and Wolf looked away, arms crossed over her chest. 

The man turned towards them. He was a tall man, skin glowing in the sunlight, teeth whiter than summer clouds, and eyes filled with all the love in the world.

“Who are you?” he said, still clinging onto Kipo, and her to him.

“These are my best friends!” Kipo said, before any of them could even open their mouth.

He looked down at Kipo fondly and then back at them. “Is that so? Well then, welcome to the Burrow!”

“Thanks so much!”

“You’ll stay for lunch right?” Kipo’s dad asked.

“Oh, boy, really?” Benson asked.

“That would be great, actually, we were just thinking of finding a place.”

“I just got to set out a few more bowls, get some more meat going,” Kipo’s dad said.

“Oh thank you” Benson and Dave practically sobbed.

“It’s just through there—”

Kipo’s dad’s final words were lobbed at Benson and Dave’s retreating backs as they barged into the house. 

Kipo’s dad looked down, smile unwilling to leave his face. “I guess I’d better go help your friends settle in. Wouldn’t want them to be thinking I’m a bad host, now.”

“They would never!” Kipo said.

Kipo’s dad watched her face for a moment more, unable to believe that she was really there—unable to believe that she would still be there if he turned around.

Kipo raised a fist and a whispered chuckle escaped her dad’s lips, and they fistbumped. 

“You all come inside too,” Kipo’s dad said. “It’s always fun having company.” He smileed at Wolf. “As long as you don’t have any other plans.”

Kipo laughed. “No, we don’t—” Her face broke, expression shattering like Wolf smashed a plate of her dad’s food into the ground.

“Wolf, you’ll stay...right?” 

Kipo’s eyes swirled with hope and Wolf felt overcome with whatever it was that was going on in there, too.

“Look,” Wolf coughed, then continued gruffly. “I’ll see what it is, but I’m not promising anything”

Kipo grinned like she won the lottery. Grinned almost as big as when she saw her dad. Wolf panged with something she hadn't felt in a long time. Love? Acceptance?

She let Kipo take her hand and drag her towards the house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with me  
> i appreciate u


End file.
